Welcome to the Working Week

Now that your picture's in the paper being rhythmically admired
and you can have anyone that you have ever desired,
all you gotta tell me now is why, why, why, why.
Welcome to the workin' week.
Oh I know it don't thrill you, I hope it don't kill you.
Welcome to the workin' week.

 

Trixie sighed. She looked around the small, sterile office at Eastway-Berkley’s New York headquarters. For the first time, she admitted to herself that she might be unable to find a major flaw in their security. It was Wednesday afternoon, and Mr. Prescott had poked his head in her temporary office only moments before.

“Anything major?” he inquired.

“No, not yet,” she answered with a shake of her head. “You have one of the best organized IT departments I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks. McNairy’s good. He runs a tight ship.” Phillip McNairy was the Vice President of the information technology group at Eastway-Berkley. Trixie had been impressed by the end of her first day. Simple functions that tripped up some of the best companies, and at times even the government, seemed to be effortlessly addressed. Not to mention that there had been nothing to indicate any impropriety in the company’s operations. She had reviewed thousands of data points in the last three days and had come up empty-handed. Her examination of the financials proved quickly that Eastway-Berkley had no reason to succumb to pressures from a terrorist organization. The company’s balance sheet was solid and strong. In fact, it was mind-numbing to realize how much Chuck Prescott was worth.

“Will you be available on Friday to review my findings?” Trixie asked politely. “I should have my report ready by early afternoon.”

“Any chance you could have it ready before lunch? I’d like to head out early Friday. I’ve promised to take Mimi on a quick trip this weekend.”

“Are you going skiing?” She wondered if Charlie had asked his parents to accompany him and Mitsy to Vermont.

Chuck gave her a piercing look. He had wondered what was going on with Charlie and Beatrix, but refused to question the young woman. Mimi had worried him about the gossip, before he reminded her again that morning it was just that – gossip - and she needed to ignore it. “No, we’re heading to the cabin up at the Finger Lakes for a couple of days.”

Trixie remembered Matthew Wheeler also had a cabin at the Finger Lakes. “Yes, I’ll have it ready by lunch.”

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to it.” Chuck left the room and Trixie could hear his firm footsteps becoming fainter as he strode toward the elevators. She wondered what his reaction would be if her report indicated no problems. Sighing, she returned her attention to the computer in front of her. The network sniffer she had installed had turned up nothing. The information she had downloaded and saved to one of her thumb drives had been run through the software program the Agency had provided for her to use. Nothing had come up. She flipped through her notes with grown frustration. Finally, she decided a soda might give her an opportunity to clear her mind, and made her way to the employee break room.

As she automatically deposited coins in the vending machine, two employees distracted her from her musings.

“It’s got to be the most frustrating thing in the world. I swear, if that computer blue-screens on me one more time, I’m going to chuck it into the river.” It was the frustrated voice of a male employee, ranting about problems with his desktop unit.

“Can’t you figure out what’s causing it?” a female voice asked patiently.

“Something to do with the network browser. It’s been the one program that’s been open every time it’s happened.”

The two employees moved away, discussing their general frustrations with computer technology. Trixie was mulling it over when an idea struck her. She quickly hurried after them.

“Excuse me, but I’m working with your IT department. I couldn’t help but over hear your problem. Do you mind if I take a look at the settings on your computer?”

The male employee turned and surveyed her, staring her up and down as if wondering if she could really help him. Finally, he shrugged. “Sure. Do you think you can fix it?”

 

 

Trixie was almost giddy with relief. It had taken her the rest of the afternoon and a couple of hours into the evening, but she was certain she had identified a major security flaw in the network at Eastway-Berkley. She practically danced into her apartment building, and greeted Harry with a cheerful smile and save as she entered the lobby. Scanning the space while she waited for the elevator, she noticed nothing amiss. Several people were seated in the lobby chairs, reading papers and talking on cell-phones - the normal activity one would expect in an apartment lobby.

She turned back to the elevator as the doors opened, then walked in and turned around to push the button for her floor, continuing to observe the people waiting in the lobby. As the doors shut, it hit her. Quickly she jabbed the “door open” button and crossed the lobby towards the phone kiosks.

“Okay, Honey. Nice try. Now what in the world are you doing here?” Trixie grinned as Honey’s hazel eyes peered at her over the top of her newspaper.

“I thought I’d pull the same trick on you that you pulled on me. Only you had the benefit of a dark and stormy night.” Honey stood and dropped the New York Post, eagerly giving Trixie a hug. “Do I get to stay with you?”

“Of course!” Trixie pulled her friend toward the elevator, firing questions at her but giving her no opportunity to answer any of them.

“How did you get here? When did you arrive, you haven’t been waiting long, have you? Did you come by yourself? What brings you to New York?” The volley of questions was delivered with scarcely a pause for breath.

“Slow down!” Honey held up a hand. “Are you always this energetic in the evening?” It was now her turn to fire the questions without giving Trixie a chance to answer. “Did you forget there’s that pesky little issue of an engagement that we need to let our friends and family know about?” Honey giggled. “Brian will be here tomorrow night and we plan to tell everyone this weekend.”

Trixie chortled with glee. “Diana is very suspicious. She interrogated me as well as any law enforcement professional could have last week. She’s going to kill me when she finds out that I already know.”

“I don’t think so,” Honey answered with another giggle as Trixie pushed the button for the 23^rd floor. “How’s the assignment going?”

“Earlier this morning, I was ready to admit failure. But then later in the day, I uncovered a security hole in Prescott’s network. He’ll end up having to pay my fee.” Trixie did a little cha-cha dance of glee as the elevator door opened. “Not to mention, I’ll bet we can count on him as a reference in the future.” Trixie threw open the door to her apartment, and gave a small bow. “Mi casa, su casa! Now come in and tell me the plans. Do you want something to drink?” Throwing her arms around her tall, slender best friend, she squeezed Honey in a tight hug. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Honey dropped her bag on the floor, hugging Trixie back. “Brian and I really shuffled things to arrange this visit. We’ll have to cut our weekend short when we come for Jim’s fundraiser. But –-” Honey stopped and looked pointedly at Trixie. “If your urgent phone call Sunday morning wasn’t enough, then the link Di sent me to The Post and The Squawker was the final straw.”

Trixie squirmed. She had hoped Honey and Brian would never see that article.

“If it helps, I didn’t show them to Brian, but I’d like to know what’s going on.” Honey’s tone was reassuring.

Trixie shrugged. “You can’t believe anything you read in the paper, Honey. You learned that back when we were fourteen. Remember Paul Trent?”

“Yes. You don’t think for five minutes I believe you and Jim are involved in some silly love triangle? It’s more than that. What’s really going on, Trix?” She held up a hand. “Don’t answer that, yet. Just remember, I know you better than anyone. You’ll never convince me that there’s not more to this than you being sick of your job and ready to open our business. The Trixie Belden that I know would be off spending her weekends on surveillance missions. She sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing the latest fashions, haute couture, and Italian shoes, not to mention four-inch heels at society fundraisers just to drum up business.”

Trixie realized she hadn’t given her friend enough credit. Not only had she given Honey a reason to suspect her true motivation, she had scattered enough clues that Honey was on the cusp of figuring out the entire operation. “I ... uh ...” She bit her lip, at a loss for what to say.

Honey stared at Trixie, saying nothing as the extended silence became strained.

Trixie stared at the floor for a long moment before raising her eyes to meet Honey’s gaze. She took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you.”

Honey returned the look. After a few more seconds, she nodded slowly. “Okay, answer one question then.”

Trixie nodded.

“Is Jim part of what you can’t tell me?”

“No!” Trixie retorted. “Jim ...” She flushed as she tried to find words to explain the recently rekindled relationship between her and Jim. “He ... we ...”

“You’re not –” Honey stopped, and it was her turn to flush.

“What?” Trixie pressed. “Just say it.”

“Were you using Charlie to make Jim jealous?” Honey asked, refusing to look Trixie in the eye.

“No,” Trixie answered, realizing Honey was concerned about the gossip. “Charlie is just a friend. Actually, Mitsy and I are becoming friends as well.”

“Is Jim just a friend?” Honey asked.

“Not exactly...” Trixie stammered, uncertain where to start or what to say.

“You have a thing for Jim.” Honey smiled at Trixie’s obvious discomfort, thinking to herself that Di was right.

Trixie stared at her hands for a moment. She wondered about her friend’s reaction when the truth came out. Will Honey think I’ve used them all? She sighed and looked up. “You know that I’ve always had a thing for Jim.” She admitted chewing her bottom lip. “What’s between us now is us trying to discover if we both still feel the way we did before I went away to college. I don’t think either of us can explain it yet because we’re still finding the way. If it helps, I agreed, well, we agreed Jim will be my date for all future society functions. Now, I’ve got to make some notes for Mr. Prescott’s report. Were you serious about staying with me?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Good. That’ll give us plenty of time to talk tonight. Let me change and we can order in.” She pushed a hand through her curls in frustration, knowing she would have to wait until later to run through her downloads for potential hits. It’s going to be a long night, she thought before glancing hopefully at Honey. “Maybe, you can make us some sangria while I finish my report.”

 

 

Trixie groaned at the raucous laughter of the radio DJ when the alarm sounded at seven a.m. Two late nights in a row were taking their toll. She had pounded out her notes and reports at breathtaking speed on Wednesday, and then gabbed with Honey into the wee hours of the morning. Thursday was packed with work as she reviewed her notes and wrote reports of her findings. There were two sets of reports, each of them including entirely different one-page executive summaries and supporting details. Together, their creation had taken her most of the day - not to mention the various loose ends she had to tie up from her review. She barely finished in time to email Chuck Prescott his report before 6:00 p.m., just as she had promised. Next, she hurried back to her place to change and meet Brian, Honey and Jim for dinner at an upscale Thai restaurant in the village. The dinner, as well as the company, had provided a welcome break. Jim was thrilled with the news of Honey and Brian’s engagement, and even claimed he had suspected as much at Christmas.

Now the blaring alarm announced that today was Friday, and she would be meeting with Chuck Prescott in a few hours. Trixie smiled, savoring her successful investigation, despite the late nights she had put in. Move it, Belden. You’ve got to be wide awake for that meeting.

Rolling out of bed, she forced herself to run two miles to get her blood pumping, and then poured an energizing infusion of caffeine into her body. Several hours after the alarm awakened her, a perky and professional Trixie arrived at Mr. Prescott’s office on the 61^st floor of Eastway-Berkley. She had seen the spacious office on Monday and remained in awe of the view he enjoyed from his corner office. Not even the well-known New York haze that filtered the sun seemed to dim the panoramic and gleaming vista of the Manhattan skyline. Trixie forced herself to remember the immense power and wealth the Prescotts must command as owners of one of the largest privately-owned firms in the country. Nothing I’ve uncovered seems to suggest Eastway-Berkley is involved. Besides, why would Chuck jeopardize all of this to add a percentage point to one of the healthiest balance sheets I’ve ever seen? It’s simple – he wouldn’t. This is one of the cleanest and best run operations I’ve ever seen.

“Good morning, Beatrix,” Chuck Prescott greeted the young woman with a smile and a nod. “Can I offer you some coffee?”

“Good morning, Chuck. Coffee would be wonderful,” she answered, returning his smile.

“Beverlyn will bring it in.” Chuck raised an eyebrow at his assistant, Beverlyn Malone, who nodded in acknowledgement of the request.

They moved into his inner office and he gestured toward the conference table. The two of them made small talk until Chuck’s secretary returned with fragrant cups of coffee. Communicating wordlessly with her boss, Beverlyn exited and pulled the door shut.

“Did you get my report?” Trixie asked, taking cautious a sip of her beverage. It was delicious.

“Yes, and I guess I should ask you if you brought your bill with you today,” Chuck admitted ruefully. “I never expected you to find anything like this.”

“You have a well-run operation, Mr. Prescott. But even a company like Total Immersion will overlook something. You should ask them to send you a new team every year. You might consider alternating two companies every other year. You were right when you told me Phil was good, he’s probably one of the best I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised he hasn’t been recruited by—” Trixie stopped. She had almost said she was surprised he hadn’t been recruited by the government. She smiled and continued, “—by your competition.”

“I can’t afford to lose Phil. He’s well compensated and he knows how much I value loyalty. He wouldn’t consider leaving without talking to me first. He was quite surprised at the security hole you uncovered. He’s already reviewing your recommendations on ways to fix the problem.”

Trixie nodded. She suspected that when the fix was implemented, a few employees would be disgruntled to learn that their work-around to access the sports network websites would also be shut down. The security flaw had been embedded in the network filter Eastway had implemented a year earlier. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Yes, Phil would like you to continue to be available to him. He’ll work on getting the problem secured and the solution tested, but we’d like to put you under a retainer agreement. Phil mentioned he’d like to have you on call to us if he encounters questions,” Chuck told her. “Like I told you, I keep Phil happy, and he was quite impressed with your skills.”

Trixie smiled. “I’ll be happy to work with you and Phil as needed.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She’d have plenty of opportunity to review the work she had completed that week and double check that she hadn’t missed anything. “I’ll email you an agreement next week. Working with Phil is a pleasure.”

“And you’ll send the bill for this week?” Chuck asked with a rueful smile.

“Yes.” The blue eyes twinkled. “I’ll send you a bill.”

 

 

“Honey!” Trixie was almost shouting into her cell phone. “He’s actually going to pay me. He wants to put me on retainer to them. Can you believe it?”

“Of course I can believe it,” Honey replied. “Let me guess, your next question is: how soon can I write a contract for you?”

Trixie chuckled. “Yes.”

“Do you think it can wait until Monday?”

“Absolutely! I told Chuck I’d email it to him and he’s out of town until then, anyway. If you get it to me before the end of the day Monday, I can forward it on.” Trixie paused for just a moment. “What do you think I should charge him for my services?”

“Gleeps, Trixie. I don’t know. Some of the attorney’s in our area have started billing at a thousand an hour. Maybe we should ask Ben what he thinks.”

Trixie frowned and changed the subject. “Did you tell them yet? What did they say?”

Honey giggled. “Yes, we told them first thing this morning. I think they guessed since we asked them to meet us for breakfast. Now they’re all atwitter about an engagement party, dinners, you name it. We managed to convince them that they couldn’t plan anything until after Jim’s fundraiser, although everyone insisted on doing something this weekend.”

“So do the festivities start tomorrow, then?” Trixie hoped she’d have one early night to recover her lost sleep.

“Not exactly,” Honey hedged. “Moms wants to host all the Bob-Whites for brunch tomorrow and Mother is pulling together a spur of the moment dinner party at Manor House Saturday night. She’s inviting more family, nothing too formal. But Brian and I were hoping everyone could get together tonight, just the Bob-Whites.”

“Tonight?” Trixie swallowed her disappointment. “Can everyone make it?”

“Yes, everyone is going to be here. That is, if you can make it,” Honey hastened to add.

Trixie knew Honey could tell how tired she was, and forced a gaiety into her voice she really didn’t feel. “That’s fantastic, Honey! An old-fashioned Bob-White meeting is just what I’ve been wanting ever since I moved back to New York. Just tell me when and where!”

She smiled as the apprehension disappeared from Honey’s voice when she giggled at Trixie’s answer. “We could all meet at the clubhouse if you really need that fix. But we thought Wimpy’s would work for all of us. You can connect with Dan. He’s not planning on leaving the city until about four. Do you want me to tell him you need a ride?”

Trixie quickly calculated how much time it would take to finish her phone calls and file the report to her boss; if she hurried, she could be finished by four. “Sure, Honey. That would be great. I’d better go. I have plenty to keep me busy until then.”

“Great. Oh, and horseback riding after brunch. Regan’s going to borrow a couple of horses from Jed Tomlinson so everyone can ride.”

“You’re planning everything you can to keep your Mother from forcing you to sit down and discuss wedding plans, aren’t you?” Trixie had a pretty good idea why Honey was filling up the weekend with events.

“Why, Trixie!” Honey exclaimed. Her tone was full of false innocence. “Would I do a thing like that?”

“Yes, and it’s an excellent idea. I’ll see you tonight. I have to get a final report filed and make some phone calls if I’m going to spend all weekend with my newly engaged partner and best friend.”

“I thought you sent your final report to Chuck last night,” Honey remarked. “I’ll make sure Dan gives you a call.” She disconnected the call before Trixie could attempt to explain away her blunder.

“Great,” she muttered to herself, looking around for a cab. “At this rate, I won’t get to sleep until sometime next week.”

 

 

“Charlie?” The efficient brunette secretary spoke after a brisk knock. Having worked as his secretary for over a year now, the efficient brunette was well-aware of her employer’s expectations. It had been only twenty minutes since he had given clear instructions that he was not to be interrupted. Sighing, she slipped into the office and shut the door behind her.

“What is it, Ellie?” Charlie asked, without looking up. She knows I mean it when I say I’m not to be disturbed.

“There’s a gentleman here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he’s adamant that he speaks with you now.”

“Get rid of him,” Charlie replied without a glance up from his desk. “I’ve got to finish this brief before I can pick up Mitsy and head out of town.”

“She can’t get rid of me.” The deep voice came from the door. “And you’re not picking up Mitsy until you talk to me.”

“Mr. Thornhill!” Ellie spoke more sharply than she intended. “I told you to wait outside and that I would speak to Mr. Prescott.”

“That’s okay, Ellie,” Charlie said, standing. “I’ll always have time to see Mr. Thornhill.” He motioned for the older gentleman to enter. “Can we get you some coffee or something to drink?”

“No. I’m not here to socialize.” His statement was made without any inflection, giving Charlie pause. Here is a man I can’t read.

“Thank you, Ellie.” Charlie nodded, and she left his office. The door’s latch clicked audibly as she closed it.

“I don’t suppose you’re here because you need a lawyer,” Charlie began.

“Nope.”

“Have a seat, please. What can I do for you today?” He indicated that William Thornhill could take a seat in one of the leather chairs that faced his desk.

Thornhill ignored the gesture. “You can explain your intentions toward my daughter.”

Charlie nodded, leaning against the front of his desk. If Thornhill isn’t sitting, then neither am I.

“My intentions toward Mitsy are nothing but honorable,” Charlie answered, looking his visitor square in the eye. “I care for her greatly, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

“Your reputation would make me think otherwise. If you were on the witness stand, would your answer be the same?” William Thornhill was blunt.

“Yes, it would.” Charlie stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Your reputation makes me wonder why you would believe vicious society gossip and innuendo.”

“When your daughter is the subject of scurrilous daily reports about her love life, you won’t have to wonder, you’ll understand completely. I don’t want my little girl hurt by being in the middle of some tawdry love triangle!” Thornhill’s voice crackled with fury.

“Did you ask Mitsy?”

“No, I’m asking you – what are your intentions towards my daughter? She told me she was leaving the office early to take a trip this weekend to Vermont, with you.”

“That’s correct.” Charlie began to fidget, for the first time in many years. He had finally met a potential witness he couldn’t read.

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“If I were, I’d be a fool to admit it to her father,” Charlie shot back, pushing a hand through his hair in frustration. “Again, I care about Mitsy, and I’ll do everything I can to protect her from the gossip hounds.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“That’s all you’re going to get from me,” Charlie retorted, pulling his hands out of his pockets and standing up straight.

“Then perhaps I’ll make sure there is an appropriate work crisis that keeps her from going skiing with you this weekend.”

“Mr. Thornhill, you do what you think you need to do to protect Mitsy. But she’s a smart and educated woman, not to mention an adult. She’s completely capable of making her own decisions. If you think for five minutes she wouldn’t see through your trumped-up work crisis, then you don’t know her very well. If you want to know anything else about what’s between the two of us, then you need to ask Mitsy. I’m not going to discuss her behind her back, not even with her father.”

The two men stood staring at each other, each taking the other’s measure, like two gunslingers in a cheesy western movie. Neither was willing to be the first to speak. The stony silence was broken by the buzz of the intercom.

Charlie pushed the button on his phone without taking his eyes off William Thornhill.

“Yes, Ms. Byrd?”

“Miss Thornhill is on the phone.”

“Put her through, please.”

Charlie continued to stare at his visitor as he pushed the speaker button on his phone. “Hi, Mitsy. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

A brief girlish giggle was audible before Mitsy spoke. “I wanted to make sure you were going to be here by one.”

“Yes, if I can get this meeting wrapped up in the next few minutes, I’ll be on time.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had someone with you.” Mitsy’s tone switched from a frivolous flirt to a well-modulated professional tone.

“That’s perfectly okay, Mitsy. He understands I’m working against a tight schedule this morning,” Charlie explained, arching an accusing eyebrow at Mitsy’s father.

“Well, you’ve answered my question. I do apologize for interrupting your meeting, Charlie. I’ll see you around one.” Mitsy broke the connection and Charlie pressed the button on his phone to end the call.

“I take it you’re picking her up at the penthouse?” William Thornhill asked.

Charlie quickly hunted for a hint of Thornhill’s response to his brief conversation with Mitsy. Unfortunately, the older man’s detached expression and mannerisms provided no clues about what was being processed in his mind. He answered the question without being certain where Mitsy’s father was heading. “Yes. I understand you have private underground parking.”

William Thornhill nodded.

“Excellent. The car I’ve hired has tinted windows. There won’t be any pictures of us leaving town. Ellie made the reservation for our two-bedroom suite in the firm’s name. I don’t think you’ll need to be worried about gossip this weekend.”

William Thornhill nodded again, this time more slowly. “You’re not who I would’ve picked for Mitsy.” His measuring stare had undergone a subtle change.

“And here I was thinking in this day and age, girls like Mitsy pick for themselves.” Charlie’s answer was pure cheek.

“True. But in this day and age, fathers of wealthy young women still have the connections and resources to influence their daughter’s decisions. And you’re not who I would’ve picked for Mitsy.” William Thornhill held up a hand as if to stop Charlie from speaking. “But you may be the right choice, after all.” He paused and looked sternly at the brash, but brilliant, attorney, as if assessing him once again. “Hurt my daughter, and I’ll crush you, Prescott.”

“I’m not going to hurt Mitsy.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to hurt you.”

Charlie sighed as the older man turned and strode out of the room, pulling the door open forcefully and never slowing down. He was standing there, contemplating the just-ended conversation, when Ellie stuck her head back through the door.

“Is everything okay, Charlie?”

“Yeah, Ellie. Everything is fine. Do you think you can keep everyone else at bay while I finish up my review of this brief?”

“Yes, of course. Hold all your calls?”

“Yes – no, please put through any calls from my family or Mitsy and her family. You can tell everyone else I’m out of town until Monday after lunch.”

“Very well.” Eleanor again closed the door behind her.

Charlie turned back and looked at his desk. He cursed the dratted brief before striding around the desk and sitting back down in his comfortable leather chair. Somehow, even though he believed he had stood up to William Thornhill, he still felt as though the older man had come out on top.

 

 

“Connors, Ford and Newman, Mr. Prescott’s office,” the pleasant voice announced from the phone’s receiver.

“This is Beatrix Belden. Is Mr. Prescott available?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Belden. He’s out of the office until Monday. May I have him call you then?”

Trixie sighed in frustration. The only thing that seemed to be going her way was the appointment she had made to meet Warren Mortimer for lunch on Monday morning.

“Yes. If you’ll leave him a message to call me, I’d appreciate it.” Trixie bit her lip; she really wanted some information right then. “Do you think you could transfer me over to Ben Riker’s office?”

“Certainly, Ms. Belden. One moment please.” The efficient Eleanor Byrd transferred Trixie’s call to Ben’s office extension before she could count to ten.

“Well, well, well... to what do I owe the honor of a phone call from Manhattan’s latest ‘it’ girl?” Ben said into the phone, leaning back in his chair.

“Cute, Ben. I need some information, and I’m hoping you can help,” Trixie explained.

“Of course, Beatrix. Why else would you call?”

Trixie paused, wondering what she had done to invoke Ben’s ire. “If you’re too busy, I can ask someone else.”

“You’ve already interrupted me. Go ahead, what’s your question?” Ben swallowed hard.

“How much do you normally pay your private investigators?” she asked. “Do you have any on retainer?”

“It just depends. We normally pay a fixed amount for a background check. It depends on what we need, but it’s anywhere from $100 to $300. I don’t know anyone who does a retainer for less than five thousand.” Ben paused, his curiosity making him ask. “Are you taking a new case?”

“I’m trying to decide how much to charge Mr. Prescott for a week of services,” Trixie explained. “He wants to put me on retainer to call for questions.”

“It’s tough to compare that to investigator rates. I’d recommend fifteen hundred for the week. That’s three hundred a day.”

“Okay, well... thanks, Ben. Have a good weekend.” Trixie was ready to end the conversation.

“Do you have plans tomorrow night? We could go out, catch a movie...” Ben trailed off, knowing she was going to turn him down.

“Sorry, Ben. I’m going ho— to Sleepyside this weekend,” she explained.

Ben paused to see if she would suggest a different night. “I see. Am I to assume that the gossip rags are correct about your latest conquest?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she answered in a terse tone. “I don’t read the gossip rags.”

“Come on, Trix. Just tell me. Are you and Jim back together, neither one of you admitting how bad you have it for each other?”

“I’m going out with Jim,” she admitted.

“Are you ever going to put that boy out of his misery?” Ben demanded.

“Jim doesn’t seem very miserable to me!” Trixie snapped back.

“Yeah – whatever. I’ll see you, Trix.” Ben disconnected the phone. He thought about his chances and compared them to those of his younger cousin. “Good luck, Jim,” he muttered. “You’re going to need it.”

 

 

Trixie shot an evil glance at the ringing telephone. She needed at least fifteen more minutes before she could finish filing her final reports on Prescott to the Bureau.

“Hey, Freckles! You need a ride to Westchester County?” a familiar voice asked.

“Are you driving?”

“Yep, thought I would. Wanna ride with me?”

“When are you leaving?” she asked, glancing at the clock. She still needed to pack.

“I’m ready but across town. How much time do you need?”

“How are you managing to get out of town so early? It’s barely three o’clock!” Trixie knew New York detectives had long hours.

“Had a buddy that owed me a few hours. He’s covering for me. Come on, I want to beat the worst of the traffic. Can you be ready when I get there?”

“Yeah, so long as you don’t come blazing up with sirens and lights, I should be ready. I’ll tell Harry to send you on up when you get here. Park out front in the fifteen-minute zone.” Trixie disconnected the call and immediately buzzed the doorman for her apartment.

“Yes, Ms. Belden?”

“Oh! Hello, Malcolm. I’m expecting Dan Mangan to pick me up in the next hour. He’s going to park in the loading zone. Will you send him on up when he arrives? We’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Certainly, Ms. Belden.”

Trixie sighed as she glanced at the clock again. She would have to hurry.